Amazing Zoo Crew: The Harmony Trap
by GreyFlank
Summary: (now with Chapter 10!)Captain Carrot's Amazing Zoo Crew as you've never seen them before! Vertigo style and absolutely serious, Furry Anthropomorphic novel lenght eventually
1. West Corner of the Park

Intro:  
  
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Superman and Starro travel from Earth 1. Their presence gives rise to the Zoo Crew (Captain Carrot/Rodney Rabbit, Alley-Kat-Abra/Felina Furr,Fastback/Timmy-Joe Terrapin, Pig-Iron/Peter Porkchops, Rubberduck/Byrd Rentals, Yankee Poodle/Rova Barkitt). [New Teen Titans #16]  
  
Of course, that's how we saw it on Earth-Prime. Elseworlds, it was a different story.  
  
  
  
The West Corner of the Park: 1  
  
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The plastic disc sailed across the sky, casually dodging the white furred digits of the teenager it was meant for. Powerful legs pumped and pivoted to get the lapine youth directly under the flying object, but it was not to be. Five fingers clutched air as the disc continued to glide blithely past its master as if it had another target in mind.  
  
Indeed, for one bright moment, Andy Costley thought the gods of flight had smiled upon him. He set his jaw, although a smile of his own seemed to form beneath his flexible beak, and dug his little green toes into the grass. He pumped his legs forward, sending a tiny spray of dirt and divots in his wake. Despite the awkwardness of backside of hardened skin, Andy felt fleet footed and sure as he raced to where he needed to be. His arm reached out, little green fingers with pale grey claws ready to pull the disc from the sky.  
  
It was glorious. It was everything he imagined it would be.  
  
Until a brown blur crossed his path and snatched the disc from the air.  
  
Andy suddenly felt a thousand pounds heavier, as Jarvis landed lithely a few feet away. The cat was slim and robust, full of the hot-blooded grace denied the younger boy. He wore nothing but a brown-orange t-shirt that matched most of his fur. His fur covered sex bounced obscenely beneath his tail as he spun around and launched the disc on a different tangent across the field, and Andy couldn't help but look. It was one of the things that made the Mammals think themselves superior.  
  
Jarvis smiled happily and looked Andy right in the eyes. "You almost had it there, Sport. Keep trying." Then the Feline looked away to watch Juan, another of the Hewitts' foster kids, leap up nimbly to catch the flying disc. At least, Andy thought it was Juan. Andy's vision was not great at long distances, which infuriated him as it fell right into the Reptilian stereotype. Still, how many grey Canines wearing red shorts could there be in the park today.  
  
His "brothers" continued to play around him, tossing the disc through the air to anyone but him. They made no secret of the fact that they hated him for not being a Mammal. They called him Scaley and Meat behind his back, he knew they did.  
  
"Play with Andy," Mr Hewitt had ordered as the ten boys under his foster care had climbed out of his bus-like van. The large black Ursine who had been taking care of Andy since his parents had died last year even gave Andy a wink from behind the wheel of the van. He and one of the older boys had an errand to run in town and they were going to be back just before supper, and Andy had always dreaded the unsupervised time when the other boys would be mean to him.  
  
At first, Andy had been excited and grateful for this. For if Mr. Hewitt told them to do something, they generally did it. He knew once they started to play with him, they'd get to know him and like him for who he was. That's what all the teachers said in school. But nobody listened. Not to the teachers. Not to Mr. Hewitt. Nobody listened to anybody when it meant being nice to Andy. Before long, Andy totally resented his care-giver for that command.  
  
What was truly annoying to Andy was how easily he could hope. The young male knew better, he really did. He remembered his father, his real father, complaining that at least when the Repts where slaves the Mammals had put some sort of value on them. "Now, it's like we're worth less than nothin'!" Momma had always dismissed the notion out of hand, with common sense optimism. In hindsight, Andy could see the weight of the years having to live as a second class citizen in her eyes and carriage. She had put on an act for him, to protect him from the harsh reality of it all.  
  
With a stabbing pain to his heart, Andy realized he could come to hate Momma for doing that to him. A small hot tear of shame slid down his face and the boy forced himself to think about the flying disc that was never going to come his way.  
  
-more to be added 


	2. West Corner of the Park 2

Zoo 3  
  
By Bill Kieffer  
  
The West Corner of the Park 2  
  
There were older boys, but only Juan Mondello was the most senior of the Hewitt brood. He knew how to play the game and get the most out the decrepit bear, which usually meant playing the other foster kids against each other.  
  
You can only play ten sided discus toss for so long and it paid to be able to entertain yourself. For the moment, watching the stupid 'Saur-baby "run" futilely after the flying disc was making Juan's day, but he could see that Jarvis was weakening and if something wasn't done, he was going to cave and let the little monster catch the disc.  
  
Juan's old man had been killed by those cock-sucking, cold-blooded abominations of nature. They had no place in Juan's life, and if they were going to force themselves on Juan, then it damn well was going to be on his terms, not theirs. This little hatchling was going to grow up knowing his place in the great scheme of things, if Juan had anything to say about it.  
  
And, by the rules of the game, he did. He just couldn't be overt about it. He'd seem too many other fosterlings try that route and it never flew with Papa Ursine. Juan was a Darwinist of the purest stripe, but it was not just a matter of natural selection. It was a matter of selecting the moments to pick one's battle, naturally.  
  
Juan just had to remember not to let the green devil get to him.  
  
He called Jarvis over and then threw the disc out to Bob. As Bob threw the disc across the green, Jarvis and Juan each told a different foster brother Juan's idea. Evil smiles broke out as mob rule sunk in and within minutes everyone knew what to do the moment Juan called out, "Hey, Andy! This one's for you!"  
  
The disc was bright red, even Andy's weak vision could track it across the field. His heart caught in his throat as he realized that Juan had thrown the disc right at him! He couldn't believe it! Everyone was watching him as he got himself in line with the flying object, and he knew... he just knew... he was going to catch that piece of plastic. Otherwise he was gonna die; just die. No, he had to catch it!  
  
He was under it and then he and it were over the crest of a hill as a sudden wind shift took the disc along a different vector. Andy forced his stubby little green legs to stay under it despite the change in direction, despite the pain in his chest or his own plate chafing his upper arms.  
  
And, miraculously, his efforts paid off for the disc suddenly dropped into his furless arms as if it had meant to land there all along.  
  
"Yes!" Andy screeched and held the disc aloft. "I caught it! I caught it!" He spun gracefully in an arc as he headed back to his "brothers." He was lighter and swifter and the air was sweet. "I caught it!"  
  
Only when he crested the hillock, the west corner field was empty but for him. He was confused for a moment, but then suddenly the little plastic disc might as well have been made of lead. His lungs, already bellowing for air, suddenly demanded twice as much air. He nearly choked as he tried to swallow something caught in his throat at that moment and the two needs collided. His little green body shivered as other pressing needs made themselves known, but within moments they sorted themselves out into huge racking tears.  
  
Andy fell to the ground, the sudden extreme weight of the disc was just too much for him. He tried to pull himself into his shell, to make himself small, to let the numbing darkness take him, but that kind of thing only happened in comics and cartoons. In the real world, a Tortoise's shell was nothing more than plates of hardened, dead skin and not a little house he carried around on his back. But why couldn't this be like the cartoons? Why?  
  
"I caught it," he complained, understanding what happened while not understanding it at all. "C'mon... I caught it..." 


	3. West Corner of the Park 3

West Corner of the Park 3

By Bill Kieffer

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

This is probably a good time to say, hey, I don't own Captain Carrot and the Amazing Zoo Crew.  DC comics does.  They, in turn are own by Time-Warner... who are kinda co-existing with AOL... at least at the time of this writing. 

There's no profit to be found here.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Andy didn't so much stop crying as he let the tears run their course.  He was able to, after a short period, get up off the ground and dust off his thickly etched knees, and count his blessings that no one had seen him give in like that.

As a Reptile, he was used to disappointments, so he did what his mother always said to do.  He got up and dusted himself off.  He checked in his thigh sack for the time and sighed.  Mr. Hewitt wouldn't be back for three hours yet and the park could get real boring without anyone to play with.

Still, he had the red plastic disc and a whole park to explore.  Maybe he'd find another Tortoise to play with, although just about any Reptile would be nice.  But he wouldn't turn his nose up at a Sloth.  It'd be nice to know a Mammal he could outrun.

He tossed the disc up and he caught it when it came back down.  He caught it, yippie.  Hooray.  He tossed the disc up and caught it again.  A tiny smile broke out on his face on the third vertical toss.  "You were always such a happy baby," he could hear his mother say in the past, the ghost of her laughter slipping from the bowels of his mind.

"I don't wanna be a baby," he muttered softly as a pout replaced the smile.  "I want to get out of here and get my own job and buy me a new place to live.  Alone."

Yet, the disc still flew back up in the air and each time it went higher.  Andy had to zig zag a bit to get himself under it after awhile.  Before too long, he was having a relatively nice time letting his eyes and body follow the disc as his mind wandered far a field.

Things could be better for him.  Things happened to people all the time, even cold-bloods.  Things like winning the lottery or getting super-powers.  He'd seen it on the news, the same way he'd seen the automobile accident that had taken his parents away from him.  That was another thing that happened to people, a bad thing.  Sooner or later, some "thing" was going to happen to Andy Costley and he'd show them.  He'd show them all.

Disc went up.  Disc came down.

He'd be rich and famous with a white sexy Lapine gal on each arm and everywhere he went would be by limo to places with many Furs stuck behind red velvet ropes and spotlights that paced importantly across the sky.  Rova Barkett would stick a microphone in front of his beak and they would pretend he didn't know that she was also Yankee Poodle.

Disc went up.  Disc came down.

He'd fly through the air with a device of his own making, racing Fastback along the ground, laughing easily at those left behind in their wake as they humbly threw themselves into flaming disaster to save the day.  They would move too fast to ever be photographed, so fleet that the world seemed full of strobe lit mannequins.  And they would never stop trying to save them all.

Disc went up and came back down.  For the eighth or ninth time, he had caught it easily.  He was getting good at this and aimed a bit higher with each toss up.  It was the only way he was going to get better.

Maybe he'd get good enough to a major league baseball player.  There were already Repts as catchers, but it would be cool to be an outfielder or a pitcher.  It would be so cool if he could just have his own baseball card.

Disc went up and sideways, caught by a sudden breeze.  Keeping his eye on the red disc, Andy side stepped to stay under it.  Suddenly, the world bent around him and the path slide out from under his feet.  He tumbled down the embankment and barked his toughened chest a length of exposed concrete pipe as he slid to a halt.

For a moment, Andy lay there wondering what had happened.  He rolled shakily to his feet and looked up the rise.  It didn't take a genius to see that he had fallen from the path down into the drainage area.  How embarrassing.  For that moment, he was glad to be a Tortoise.  Surely Juan or Jarvis would have torn their pretty fluffy hides on the pipe had they fallen as Andy had.  He tried not to dwell on the fact that either fosterling was too graceful to ever have fallen like that.

With a deep breathe, Andy looked about for the red disc.  He found it to his left, in a copse of trees circling the muddy "shoreline" of the stagnant runoff pond.  His bare unwebbed feet squished in the mud as he got to the half dead sapling that held the red flyer hostage.  He didn't like the feel of that at all, but at this moment that circular piece of plastic was really the only friend he had.  Andy simply wasn't going to abandon it, the way he'd been abandoned so many times before.

He shook the tree and suddenly a strong chemical smell struck at him.  Andy stopped and concentrated on not vomiting where he stood.  In a moment, it passed as if the scent had never existed at all.

Holding his breathe, Andy shook the tree again and this time the red disc fell out.  It turned in mid-air and slid deeper towards the center of the artificial depression until it landed with a plunk.

"Water," Andy said as if the world was conspiring against him.  A flutter of fear clutched his heart, for unlike almost all their cousin species, Tortoises could not swim without a floatation device.  Andy wasn't about to give into fear, however.  He could see a log that went right up the edge of the brackish water and even stretched over the surface a bit.  With a stick and careful moves, Andy was sure he could rescue the disc.

It'd be good practice for when he was a superhero, he told himself.   

The log was solid and quite strong enough to hold his weight.  A four foot long oak branch with a fork of smaller branches at the end made for a good skimmer.  

To his credit, Andy did everything perfectly.  His balance was impeccable and the stick did not get in his way.  His only mistake involved the fulcrum point of the log and the weight his body brought to bear on the end of the log suspended over the water.

The log simply stood up with the smacking sound of mud giving up its prize.  There was a splash as the young Reptile's body slid beneath the surface of the water into a surprisingly deep drop-off.

With the weight off the short end, the log fell casually back into the mud.  Only the most careful observers would notice the log had been move at all.


	4. West Corner of the Park 4

West Corner of the Park 4  
  
By Bill Kieffer  
  
  
  
The water consumed him in a second, enveloping the young Tortoise with effortless fluidity. The world Andy had known had simply ceased to exist. Now there was only the water all about him, insidiously pressing at his beak and nostrils, waiting for the chance to rush into his lungs and rob his life.  
  
He flailed about, uncomprehendingly reaching only slick mud that dropped to a vertical wall under the surface of the water. Bronze light filtered down from above, and once his feet reached bottom, he thrust his legs into the slimy bottom and bobbed to the surface a moment later. He gasped at the air and grabbed a mouthful of its sweet promise before slipping beneath the surface again. His claws swatted at the log that had betrayed him, but then, they too vanished into the pond.  
  
He struggled and hit bottom again. He squatted and put all his remaining strength into one last underwater leap. In this manner, he "swam" to the surface where he was able to clutch at an exposed root. But it was not a thick root and the moment he tried to pull himself up and out, it gave. He had a moment to shout out for help before the pond swallowed him whole again.  
  
He took in water and the awful chemical taste nearly caused him to choke. Andy forced himself to swallow it before it could force its way to his lungs. His heart pounded. His nostrils stung from the awful water invading them. And this time, when he pushed himself to the surface, he opened his mouth a moment too late and closed his beak a moment too late.  
  
An endless torrent of water poured into Andy as the poor Tortoise felt himself fill up like a great balloon. He was being crushed from the inside out. Without realizing it, he ceased struggling and went limp as his body slid into deeper waters. Numbly, he watched the bronze sunlight fall away as a semi-opaque silhouette of plastic flying disc bobbed on the surface he'd never see again.  
  
He heard his mother's laughter calling him from the darkness. He heard his grandmother telling the tales her grandmother told her of slave ships and having to choose which eggs would be hatched and which eggs would be eaten.  
  
He remembered Momma sending him into the bar to get his father. He hadn't seen his father at first, but he had seen the four Furs gathered around something. He was seven and still innocent in the ways of the world, but he still knew a gun when he saw it and he knew it didn't belong in his father's beak, but still the Canine held it there all the same. He knew the look of fear, even on his father's face, and he would know the look of shame on his father's face when the hot-blooded bigot threw the older tortoise to the ground, because his buddies got cold-feet in front of their victim's little boy.  
  
He remembered the broken eggs on Easter, the promise of new life made obscene with the hate of unthinking Furs. Momma had scrubbed the exterior of their house clean the whole of the next day while his father made phone calls that went ignore no matter how much he yelled.  
  
His grandmothers had died after leaving Bingo one night. Their friendship had still been novel, brought together not by their children marrying, nor by their grandchild being born, but by the recent deaths of their husband. A viper crack head jumped them, hoping their gambling winnings would finance his next score and the ambulance took its time getting to that neighborhood, as his father said.  
  
The heartbreak and agony as the television focused on a strip of material with an oddly familiar pattern on it. The multi-vehicle pile up was still hidden by thick, roiling smoke, but the wind had shifted for a bit and the camera was hungry to get a good shot of anything. "Is that a... piece of tire?" the anchorman had asked miles away in his sterile newsroom.  
  
"No," the onsite reporter said, obviously trying to stay professional, "I believe that's the shell of a Turtle, Frank. Part of it, in any case, it appears to have be sheared from one of the victims of this tragic accident." The cameraman, realizing the gruesome-nature of what he was looking at finally sinking in, turned the camera back to the Raccoon who was reporting on the worst accident in their state since... whenever.  
  
"Oh." The anchorman paused and then asked inanely from the uptown studios, "They can live without that, right?"  
  
It was the last Andy had ever seen of his father, but he knew they would be together very soon.  
  
NO. NOT YET.  
  
Suddenly, the universe exploded about him and his body folded in half from a force, which vanished before Andy could even truly comprehend that something had grabbed him. Air, earth, and sky pinwheeled around him for one dizzying micro-second. Then he was on his hands and knees at the edge of a grassy field, vomiting the foul-tasting water.  
  
The grass and the world around him seemed alien. The grass was too green and the sky too blue. Every little detail tried to crowd his mind as if he had never seen the world before. He was alive. How?  
  
As he choked and spat the last of the vile water out, the red disc landed gently in front of Andy. His eyes went wide as he felt a shiver dance up his spine. The disc, too, was brighter than he ever remembered it being. It was all so very surreal.  
  
He looked, bewildered by it all, towards where the disc had sailed from and saw a tubby brown Lapine in both pants and buttoned shirt, a combination as unusual as the black shoes the Rabbit also wore. He looked very formal in all those clothes because all the Lapines Andy knew only wore shirts or shorts, never pants and never both. Andy assumed the brown Rabbit was male, but couldn't be sure. The chemical stench clinging to Andy's own body masked what scent the heavy Fur might have possessed.  
  
"Did you...? "Andy sputtered as he tried to stand up. "Did you...?"  
  
The Rabbit smiled, and suddenly, Andy realized the Lapine wore thin wire frame glasses as they caught the sunlight as it shifted on the furry features. The eyes behind the glasses seemed to squint in delight. "Did I see what happened? Yes, I did."  
  
"You did?" That hadn't been what Andy was about to ask, but it was close enough. "What happened?"  
  
The Rabbit helped the Tortoise to his feet, his ears rocking forward in a friendly manner as he bent over the reptile. Andy instantly felt safe and secure, even though his throat and nostrils felt tender and hollow. "Well, it all happened so quickly. You might have noticed that I'm a Rabbit and I could hardly track him with my eyes."  
  
"Him?"  
  
The Rabbit nodded sagely, "Fastback. You must have seen him when he grabbed you, right?"  
  
Andy's lower jaw dropped, leaving his beak opened. Fastback was the fastest Being in the whole world and he was a Reptile, just like Andy. He was a Turtle, which was almost the same thing. Almost. He was Andy's all- time hero. It was all the Tortoise could do to shake his head no.  
  
"Oh, that's a shame, any way, he heard you yell for help and ran to your aid. He saw instantly that you were a Tortoise, being a Turtle and all, I suppose, and that you were in trouble! He tried to dive in to save you, but he moved so fast, he just skipped across the surface of the water like a rock. You ever skip rocks across a lake, boy? No, well, that's what happened to him, so he ran around the little pond and created a whirlwind, sucked the water right up into the air... and then he leapt into the water spout and pulled you out through the other side. The water crashed down back the next instant, but Fastback was on the ground by then giving you mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Of course, in your case it was beak-to-beak. Once you started coughing up water, he had to rush off to... protect the rain forest. I think that's what he said. Hard to tell, he spoke really fast, don't you know."  
  
Andy blinked as he tried to not only take in the rapid speech, but the things that had happened. He hadn't seen any of it, he couldn't even remember Fastback giving first aid. "Wait," Andy said suddenly as the thought occurred to him, "How did he give me mouth-to-mouth?"  
  
"Hmmm?" The Rabbit seemed confused but very friendly, still.  
  
"How did he... " Andy said and failed to find the right words. After a moment, he simply pushed at his thick almost inflexible "lips."  
  
"Oh," The Rabbit smiled broadly, "You're confused because there's little or no occlusion between two beaks, right? Well, don't forget, Fastback has... super lungs. Yes, that's right, super lungs. How else could he run so fast if he didn't have super lungs? Why, he'd be out of breath all the time. No good for sneaking up on supervillians, eh?"  
  
Of course! Andy's face seemed to shine as the realization set in. Fastback! He'd been saved by Fastback! Now that he thought about it, he could almost picture the blue clad Turtle rushing about the pond, creating a whirlpool. There were plenty of trigs and debris strewn about, just like in their comic book! And, most importantly, he was still alive! "Wow."  
  
The Rabbit brushed some loose leaves and needles from his knees and shell. "Maybe we should go find your parents, kid?"  
  
A little of the light left the Tortoise's face. "My parents died," he said, almost in apology.  
  
The Rabbit pouted a little bit, letting a bit of his large front teeth show. Andy could see himself in the Rabbit's reflection, he did need to be cleaned up a bit. The Rabbit's eyes were brown and the fine hairs on his eyelids were stark white and they seemed so very kind. Andy could almost feel the concern radiating of the male... yes, the Rabbit was very definitely male. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said in a very fatherly voice. "You must be here with someone."  
  
"I'm here with my 'brothers,'" Andy said and the tension on his right arm suddenly seemed to increase. He looked curiously at that arm to find that the Rabbit was holding it. He hadn't even realized the Rabbit hadn't let go of him after helping him up. Instinctively, Andy pulled away gently to see if the Rabbit would let go. The Rabbit did, nodding as if with approval. "Our guardian is coming back to pick us up for dinner. Soon."  
  
"My name is Robert Menke," the Rabbit said then, taking a card from his wallet. "I work for The Zoo Crew. I do public relations stuff for the heroes. That's why I was here with Fastback; next month we'll be holding a 'pep rally' here against prejudice."  
  
"Wow," Andy said excitedly, "Will Fastback be there?"  
  
"I hope so, but it's so hard to keep him in one place very long," Mr. Menke said and he pushed up his glasses as though they did not quite fit him. "If you can come, have your Guardian call my number and we'll send a limo to pick you and your brothers up. How many boys in your family, by the way?"  
  
"Ten, counting me," Andy was too shocked to do more than answer his question and take the card from his brown hand.  
  
Mr. Menke whistled by blowing air between his large incisors. "Any girls?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"You won't mind coming on stage and holding hands with a... girl?"  
  
Andy giggled at the dramatic tone the Rabbit used for the word girl. "I'd hug Frogzilla if it meant meeting the Zoo Crew."  
  
Mr. Menke's face twitched at the mention of Frogzilla but Andy hardly noticed. He was going to meet his heroes! He was so excited, he had to go run to tell somebody! Maybe he could call Mrs. Hewitt and ask to come get him, although he felt fine. In fact, his throat had stopped hurting and his lungs felt... dryer. His arm tingled a bit where Mr. Menke had held him, but he didn't give much thought to that either. He'd never drowned before, he supposed it was normal to recover like this.  
  
"Look, I think you're going be all right, kid." Mr. Menke said with another smile. Then he leaned forward, his glasses sliding a bit down his short muzzle until his eyes looked over the top of the chrome rims. They squinted and seemed darker for a moment, and then Andy suddenly realized that he trusted the Rabbit more than anyone else in the world. "Why don't you get cleaned up in the rest room, ok? You don't want those cuts getting infected, do you?"  
  
"OK," Andy said, transfixed by the depths behind the eyes. "I don't want my cuts to get infected."  
  
"Good, and remember, Fastback saved you. No matter what anyone says, he saved you. You saw him for just a moment, a streak of blue... just like I told you."  
  
Andy nodded again. "Just like you said. He saved me... just like you said."  
  
Mr. Menke pushed his glasses back up and slapped the blinking Andy on the lower end of his shell. "Good boy. Now skid-daddle."  
  
Andy nodded happily and practically skipped across the field as the Rabbit watched him go.  
  
"Oh, good job," came a very feminine voice from the tree line. Menke turned back to look and watched a feline figure detach itself from the shadows. "He could have been the one."  
  
He smiled and let his eyes open fully. "Cool your jets, Allie." The Rabbit put his glasses away in a breast pocket very gingerly. "He's got brothers. You're the one that said it had to be an only child."  
  
She brushed her sleek and naked body against his. "And so I did, after all, you're an only child, I'm an only child. We're all only children, from Dr. Rooney to that new kid, Chester. Still, there's more than one way to read a portent, Love."  
  
The Rabbit nodded, a playful smile on his face. "True, there's Waldo."  
  
"There's a difference between Cursed and Fated, my Lapine lover." The black Feline said, taking a step away, teasingly rubbing her long sensual tail against his fluffy white tail. "Besides, he's the seventh son of a seventh son, that's as good as being an only child."  
  
-to be continued 


	5. This Little Piggy...

"How's my little porkchop doing,?"  
  
Peter hadn't realized he was awake until he heard the friendly and gravelly voice. Blinking was like rubbing dirt directly into his eyes but he forced himself to do so until the black triangular face came into focus. "Wolfie!" he cried out happily, but his voice was strained from lack of use and incredibly weak.  
  
Still, the sound of it made the black lips pull apart in a gentle smile, revealing an impressive assortment of very sharp teeth. "Back in the land of the living, I see," the very large Canine said as he sat on the edge of the bed. "I'm very glad. It gets boring wiping an ass day after day that never complains about being mistreated."  
  
Peter chuckled, tiring already. "Oh, you're a Pussy Cat. You couldn't harm a fly, you know that." He smiled as his mate picked up his useless pink hand and held it in a huge black furred paw. Distantly, Peter could feel the warmth and the pressure of that paw, but motor control was denied him.  
  
"Oh, I don't know," Wolfie said with a smile, "I handled myself pretty well back in ancient Rome. I got my time travel merit badge to prove it, too."  
  
Peter laughed and he was so tired, he started to slip back to sleep. Wolfie was kind and crazy, loving to a fault, and the casual way he dealt with the weirdness in their lives tickled Peter. Part-time artist and full time nursemaid, the male was so full of life Peter couldn't help but be happy to be alive in his presence.  
  
Darkness claimed him and he fell. Flames shot upwards all about him and he heard the children screaming. Red hot steel girders pushed heavily down onto his back as he struggled to keep the jumble of steel above him standing. His strength was never in doubt, but he could feel the steel bending from the heat and the stress. And then none of that mattered as the floor beneath him caved in.  
  
"The kids!"  
  
"The kids got out OK," Wolfie said, placing a soothing hand on his back.  
  
Peter took a deep breath and tried to nod his head, but he couldn't. He used to be able to do that much and he suddenly felt very scared. But then he realized that Wolfie had turned him over onto his stomach and he forced his heart to slow.  
  
"Did they all get out?" Peter asked as he heard Wolfie squeezing water from the sponge. He could see powder and baby oil on the bedtray, but he wasn't surprised. There was going to be a debriefing in a very short time, and they certainly weren't going to hold it in his sick room. That meant a wheelchair and diapers and maybe a suit if there was a chance a Senator or Congressman might sit in on the meeting.  
  
"All the ones we knew about, Porkchops, or so they tell me."  
  
"Good," Peter was grateful for that. The last time they tangled with Cold Slavers, the team had let seven shipping containers fall into the ocean before discovering that each container was packed full of Repts hoping for a better life in the United Species. Almost two hundred Turtles, Toad, Lizards, and Alligators in total got shorter ones instead, with the survivors deported as quietly as possible.  
  
"How's my other body?" Peter asked as the tall canine blotted his motionless, chubby, pink body dry. He felt a chill from the moisture on his skin, but Wolfie's hands were so gentle he didn't even feel the towel.  
  
"The monstrosity is still in one piece," the canine said with a sudden trace of bitterness. "You can play superhero again in a couple of weeks. Maybe sooner if they get it hauled up from the bottom of the gulf before monsoon season hits."  
  
"The Gulf? I thought I was in a building... holding up some girders..." Pete was confused. Images were so disjointed and it was hard to focus.  
  
"You were on an abandoned oil platform Tarkus had taken over. Don't you remember?"  
  
"Tarkus...," Peter said as Wolfie rolled his body onto an oversized diaper. "He was behind the Cold Slavers?"  
  
Wolfie spread powder between Peter's chubby little legs, a look of concern plain on his dark canine features. "I think we should postpone the debriefing, Peter. The fire at the Slaver's was over a week ago. You did the debriefing for that as Pig Iron... pissed me off something fierce... you tried to wield a brass dildo onto the monstrosity... you don't remember any of that?"  
  
"Actually," Peter said thinking about it carefully, "No, I don't."  
  
-more to come- 


	6. This Little Piggy 2

This Little Pig 2  
  
By Bill Kieffer  
  
"Thank you for alerting me to Dr. Rooney's condition, Waldo." The Civet's eyes swept the hall as they walked briskly down the hall, even though they were in a secure area of the complex. "What's the latest on his condition?"  
  
"They've just about ruled out physiological trauma on this end, General," the Canine in the lab coat told him. "That means it's either physical trauma to the golem or psychological trauma to Peter. We can't be certain if that trauma occurred last night when Pig Iron was disabled or earlier when a burning building fell on him eight days ago."  
  
The Civet nodded, his wide eyes giving him a surprised look as he studied the black furred Wolf. He opened the door to his office, letting Waldo follow behind him past his empty secretary's desk. It was 5 am, too early for a woman her age to be out of bed. Once in his own office, he carefully locked the door behind Waldo. "We all noticed a change in his behavior during his debriefing."  
  
"We all attributed that to seeing so many dead and twisted children. I mean, when the building collapsed, he was standing knee deep kiddie corpses."  
  
The beige Fur nodded as he pulled on his uniform. "I understand from preliminary reports that there were children held on the oil rig Tarkus had taken."  
  
"If there were, he doesn't remember a thing about them."  
  
General Vogt checked his buttons in the mirror of his closet door. He nodded approvingly at the way his bronze fur sat on top of his head; military without being severe. "How much have you told him about his last mission?"  
  
"Just enough to confuse him, I'm afraid." The Wolf dropped a folder on the General's desk. "I mentioned the oil rig and Tarkus and that I was pissed at him slightly for coming to the meeting as Pig Iron."  
  
"We'll postpone the debriefing for three days." The general leaned over his desk and gave the report a casual grant. "Tell me, do you think he's ready to go back out?"  
  
The wolf nodded and the Fossa couldn't hide his surprise from Waldo.  
  
"You usually don't like him tied into the golem so soon after he's come out."  
  
"It's true, I worry about the damage he's doing to his body." The large wolf met the eyes of the General. "His real body. In this case, however, the sooner we can get him interfaced with Pig Iron again, the better the chance of discovering what the real trauma was."  
  
The General didn't break eye contact with the Wolf. "I'll step up procedures to retrieve the golem. In the meantime, I want you to increase Feral's training."  
  
The Wolf blinked back, his ears dropping back in disappointment. "Peter really needs me, now, General. He expects me available full time..."  
  
The General held his hand out, claws extended with the fingers splayed out. "I realize the commitments you have with Dr. Rooney are both professional and personal, but we do have a fully qualified medical staff available. And, not to be crude, but I'm sure you can still find time to pork him even with the most intensive training we can think up for Feral."  
  
The Wolf growled low in his throat, but controlled himself. "Not to be blunt, General Vogt, but I don't work for you. I mean, I believe in Peter and what you are all doing here. I'll do whatever I have to do in an emergency, or to save lives, but when push comes to shove, my priorities lie with that Pig. So what makes you think I'm going to leave his side for more than a few minutes at a time when he's vulnerable and defenseless?"  
  
The General indicated a seat and the Wolf ignored him as the Civet sat in his own s-shaped share designed for Mustelids' with thicker than average tails. Vogt looked up and seemed to think for a moment. "Witnesses say Tarkus captured Pig Iron before prior to the explosion. There's a chance the golem may have been compromised."  
  
The Wolf seemed to deflate and he sat in the chair he'd been offered. "Damn. Damn Tarkus. Damn Peter. Damn me."  
  
"Feral's the only one who can handle Pig Iron if the golem becomes a risk," Vogt said, not unkindly.  
  
The Wolf snorted, "Yeah, well, damn you, too, General." 


	7. This Little Piggy 3

**This Little Piggy 3**

By Bill Kieffer

******************

_**Captain Carrot and the Amazing Zoo Crew** was a humor/funny animal comic from the '80's. The Harmony Trap is an inverted parody, taking concepts that were created were humorous effect and twisted them into a gritty, realistic send-up with a straight face. So, yes, you can expect adult themes._

_Reviews are like paychecks to me, so the more the merrier!_

******************

Peter slept much too much of late. Of course, his body was healing and healing took a lot out of a fur, even when that fur's body was quite effectively furless. Which was the reason he'd woken up, it seemed. He was cold.

He moved his head enough to see that he had only one sheet covering him. Usually he had two and a thin wool blanket that Wolfie had given him years ago. It appeared that someone had been in the process of changing his bed sheets and then wandered off with the job half done.

He looked about the room for the orderly, his limp ears straining for any sound in the room as he couldn't see all of his room. It just wasn't possible that they left him alone, was it? He caught the edge of panic and pushed it down. Of course, it was possible and it was all right. There was a full staff just outside the door; doctors and nurses, not a few of which he'd trained himself, who knew his medical needs as well as Wolfie knew his other needs.

They were just on the other side of the door, a few step away. 

Yet, for Peter, a few steps was much, much too far. The biometric accident that allowed his mind to occupy the artificial Porcine, Pig Iron, had destroyed much of his motor control and about half of his physical sensations. As Pig Iron, he was an unstoppable juggernaut, but he felt little or nothing from within that metallic body. 

He gritted his teeth and tried to force the fingers of his right hand to bend just a bit. He could do that much, at least. He's done it before. But this time there was no buzz that usually accompanied successful finger twitching. He struggled with his head and useless body until he could see down his right arm where his empty hand lay.

He frowned. This just wasn't right. That didn't mean anything was wrong. There was no reason to think the base was under attack. Yes, he had lots of enemies, but not a single one of them knew where he was or the secret behind the metallic "superhero." Not even his team-mates knew the full story, and that was just fine with Peter, and was pretty much mandated by his superiors. He hated to let anyone look at him like this... weak, helpless, harmless... except his precious, silly puppy who was wiser in his own way than anyone else he knew and who saw the real Peter Rooney and not the ruined creature everyone else saw.

"Intercom," he commanded, although the sound of it was soft and muffled even to his own ears. Nothing. He just wasn't speaking loudly enough. That was all. "Intercom," he tried again, feeling the muscles in his neck straining as he "shouted." He reeled dizzily from the effort, but he was sure he had spoken loudly enough for the voice actuation to kick in.

There should have been a tone and a pleasant voice announcing that the intercom was now active. "Wolfie," he called out on the off-chance that the intercom was already on and set to pick up his soft voice. He was certain he sounded calm and not at all frightened to find himself alone. "Wolfie, I need you."

He lied there perfectly still as that was all he could do at the moment. On the inside, however he was pacing furiously. Dr. Peter Rooney -- possibly the strongest superhero who was also a government operative -- was ironically nothing more than a Mammalian paperweight on his days off. He couldn't even wipe the tears from his eyes.

Then, suddenly, the door to his room burst opened as two males strode into the room. One was a nurse he recognized from the night shift, a Simian with a dark complexion and spiral tribal symbols shaved into his fur. The other was an Avian he did not recognize, although he was clearing an orderly from the way he was dressed: in two piece scubs. 

Was it night time already? Or was it morning? Where was Wolfie? He was too tired to speak, so he closed his eyes to gather his strength, and hopefully to blink away his tears.

Suddenly, Peter's gown was lifted over his head and he felt thick strong fingers gingerly touching his sheathe. "You're right," the nurse grumbled, "Pulled the catheter right out. What the hell made you try to move him without help?"

"I don't know," the bird said defensively. "He doesn't look that heavy, does he? Hey, what are you doing?"

Peter wondered the very same thing himself. Although the sensations seemed far away, there was no mistaking the manipulation going on between his legs. His face grew very flush indeed.

"I'm manually stimulating his genitals. Even when comatose, a Mammal's sexual organs will still respond to tactile sensation. I need to check for bruising along the shaft and I can't do that with his willie hiding in there, can I?"

"Are you sure? I've never seen anyone do that before."

"You've accidentally ripped the catheter out of a lot of males, have you?"

Peter tried to tell them to stop, that he was awake, but his voice seemed to have abandoned him and the effort left him dizzy.

"He's moaning! He's getting off on what you're doing, Mac. That's frigging gay, you know that?"

"He's in a comma, fool, and even if he wasn't he knows this has to be done. And it's not like I'm enjoying this. Ah, there we are. You're a lucky bastard, Jay. No bruises. Here let me lift him up and you finish changing the sheets, ok?"

Suddenly, the gown was pulled away from Peter's face. Peter stared angrily up at the nurse that had manipulated his genitals without so much as a greeting. The Simian smiled gently down at him as if Peter had just entered the room. "I'm going to lift you up now, Dr. Rooney, so that Jay can change your bed sheets without hurting you. OK?"

"I was awake, damn you..." But before Peter could finish his sentence the nurse slid his huge hairy arms under the Porcine like he was nothing more than a bag of potatoes. He sighed with frustration as he was shifted and then cradled with just one of the nurses incredibly long arms. He muttered and slurred his speech and neither the nurse nor the orderly had the sensitive Lupine ears that helped Wolfie hear what he was saying. He was warm, at least, as his backside and left side were cradled by a wall of flesh. 

Peter calmed himself and concentrated on speaking distinctly and clearly, now that he was this close to the Simian's ear. "Where... Is... Waldo?"

The nurse looked down at Peter and clearly still had to decipher what it was that he had said. "Waldo was called to another level, Doctor. He will be back here in about two hours. Would you like me to beep him, let him know you need him?"

YES!

But he shook his head no, instead, and let his head loll back, exhausted. And exhausted by so little! Just last week, -- or was it last month? -- he'd been tossing tanks about in a training exercise. Tanks! Now even his own head was too heavy for him.

He stared without even realizing he was looking at himself in the mirror of the bathroom he'd never been in. It wasn't just that he'd gotten used to seeing Pig Iron looking back. No, it was that corpse the big ape was holding in the mirror couldn't possibly be him. But he blinked and it blinked and his lips moved and its lips moved a bit... after a fashion. 

He started to cry because he realized Wolfie had lied. His once pale pink face was grey and yellow with burn scars and his snout was half gone. He was ugly! He looked like a pale Rept on half his face and that half wouldn't move no matter how hard he tried.

He was ugly and weak and his lover was never coming back for him. There was no reason to hang on this body any more. No reason at all.

To be continued...


	8. Stray Bullets

Stray Bullets  
  
By Bill Kieffer  
  
  
  
Harold Romano was a Canine with broad beige shoulders and long blonde arms that ended in huge paws that might have marked him as a Wolf if not for the distinctive coloration that marked him as a Shepherd. He looked every inch like the beefy security guard he was, his motley coat cut so close that Zhu could see the ripped musculature his paper bag brown uniform usually hid.  
  
So surprised to see him when she looked up from the paperwork on her desk, her mind failed to register his presence properly. Instead, her eyes crawled up the furry mountain that had suddenly sprung into existence where her view of the lobby should have been. No, not a mountain, a work of art representing the Olympian ideal of the classic Canine male.  
  
Without conscious thought, a purr of appreciation slid from deep inside of her into the real world without. The work of art broke into a happily embarrassed smile that startled Zhu into realizing she was not quite day- dreaming about her friend; that, in fact, Harold was standing in front of her desk.  
  
"Uhrrr," she said, feeling dainty and small as she always did when he was standing next to her. Then she blushed beneath her creamsicle coat so intensely that she was sure her short fur would curl. Her tail waved bolding in greeting as she covered her face politely, as if to hold down the giggle fit.  
  
Harold barked with laughter, in that way he had that never made Zhu jump at the sudden noise, the way Xing's screeching laughter made her jump with a tail suddenly as thick as her torso. Xing always made her feel awkward and ungraceful, like a cow, although she knew such was not his intent. Xing was nothing, if not polite and well-mannered.  
  
A more scornful woman might even call him effeminate.  
  
"Harold!" she said happily, "I did not see you standing there."  
  
His tail wagged with the openness she'd come to expect from Americans and his words were no less direct, but his voice was friendly, filled with teasing promises. "You seemed to look hard enough, Zu-Zu."  
  
She suffered another attack on embarrassed heat. Somehow, she found this an affirmation that all was right in the world. Had she been a typical American female, she might have leaned forward boldly and called his bluff boldly by saying something along the lines of, "Oh, Harry... are you? Are you hard enough?"  
  
Instead, she tittered like a little girl, while Harold watched her with bright happy eyes, his jowls tight with a smile almost two big for his muzzle. "Give me a few minutes to organize this mess, Harold." Zhu gave him a warning look that said you must be careful here. He returned the look with a wink as his tail wilted falsely from the silent rebuke.  
  
Zhu could only smile and shake her head as she signed off on a few documents and sorted a few others in a fashion did hardly seemed rush at all, unless one knew of her usually meticulous nature. The unrepentant flirt was not above sitting on her desk blotter if ignored too long. Xing would be scandalized to have his future wife treated so rudely in her place of employment, and with so many children in the lobby today.  
  
Perhaps this was why Zhu considered slowing her pace for a moment, but then she thought better of it. Such a display might prove difficult for both of them, since they were both employees of the United Species Bank. She was a loan officer and, while he was technically employed by Hooka Security, this USB branch was his steady assignment. Professional behavior was called for on both their behalves; yet, Zhu was convinced that Harold would throw himself in front of a train if it would make her smile.  
  
It was all very flattering, really, even though it was just quite impossible for them to be together. Quite impossible.  
  
Within minutes she was done, or at least, everything was in order. If she should get hit by a bus or abducted by aliens while on her lunch break, she was certain even the dimmest replacement USB put behind her desk would be able to pick up where she left off. She stopped for a moment as it occurred to her that that had been a rather odd thought for her to have. Just another tidbit to give her and her mother to discus over tea. Her mother was rather obsessed with dreams and premonitions and she pounced on anything that might be an omen.  
  
"I'm ready," she announced, grabbing her handbag. But Harold did not seem ready. Instead, he leaned on a nearby pillar almost casually. His tail was motionless and she noticed his eyes were anything but casual. They were sharp and moving slyly across the lobby of the bank. "Is something wrong, Harold?" Her own voice, softer but not whispering, carried more curiosity than concern.  
  
"I don't know," he admitted after a moment. He seemed to want to turn away, but his body only twitched and his eyes met hers for just a moment before they slid away back to the lobby. He jerked his muzzle almost imperceptibly towards the door. "See those two guards?"  
  
There was more curiosity than concern in his voice, but she found her hackles responding as if he'd just told her there was a bomb threat called in to the branch. She looked and saw two guards by the front doors as there always were in this high rent district. "Yes," she answered, softly. Their brown rent-a-cop uniforms made their green skin seem darker still and the shadows fell on their faces so that she could not tell from their beaks which sex they were. She was too far away to see how their shirts were buttoned over their shells, but she would have guessed male if pressed. Harold's boss was a noted chauvinist, after all. "Why? What's wrong with them?"  
  
A snarl played on his face for a moment, but then it was gone. He stepped back, putting the pillar between him and them. "They're Repts."  
  
"Harold! What a speciest thing to say," she chided him. "Especially, not since..." she let the words hang, not quite willing to bring past intimacies they had shared against him.  
  
He shook his head. "Not me. Archie." The Canine pulled thoughtfully at his scruff as he thought about his boss. "We wouldn't have any Reptiles in the agency if Archie and his lawyers weren't worried about a lawsuit or something. He might send one but not two. 'Too slow,' he'd say and who could argue with him? Never mind that having someone slow on the draw might keep things from escalating out of control." Harold's ears fell back a bit. "He'd never let me have today off if all he had were Repts to cover this USB branch. "Standing at the vault post, there's a 'Gator."  
  
Trying not to show her nervousness, Zhu glanced as casually as she possibly could. "He's a Crocodile, I believe. They have fast reflexes, don't they?"  
  
"Archie wouldn't believe that." Concern was beginning to win over mere curiosity. "Who's posted at the corner post by the tellers' row?"  
  
Zhu's golden eyes looked towards a tall green and brown creature with huge bulging eyes hanging outside his head like some sort of nightmarish creature. She cursed her own revulsion, knowing that it was rude and unforgivable. "There's a Gecko there. I don't know him."  
  
"Neither do I," Harold admitted, quickly. "I don't know any of these men. Not a single one."  
  
"It's a big agency."  
  
"Yes, it is."  
  
Zhu looked at the phone on her desk and then at the crowd of furs in the lobby. It was "Bring Your Daughter to Work Day" and the children of the employees had gotten bored with following their parents around. Most of the girls were playing "I, Spy" behind the office barricade on the other side of the lobby. The rest were drawing, reading, or listening to CDs. All told, there were a dozen little girls of different species and coloration. "Maybe you should call Archie and ease your mind," she suggested, although there might have been a tiny trace of pleading in her voice as well.  
  
Harold had the phone in his hands before she was even done speaking. Then his ears went up and back down in an instant. He poked at a few buttons and played with the receiver for half a second. Then he straightened up as he put the phone down. His face was perfectly composed when he looked at her again. "Back door."  
  
"I'm sorry?" she asked, as if not understanding or afraid that she understood all too well.  
  
He took her by the shoulders and began to steer her towards the break room. "The phone's dead, Zu-Zu. You're getting out of here."  
  
"The girls," she said, trying to look back, but Harold held her tightly, almost dragging her off her feet across the office area.  
  
"I'll stay, you have to call the police."  
  
There was no chance for Zhu to protest before the terrifying sounds of gunfire caused Harold to throw them both to the floor. 


	9. Stray Bullets 2

Stray Bullets 2 by Bill Kieffer  
  
The screams started before Harold and Zu-Zu hit the floor. The young girls, regardless of species, had all reacted to the initial gunfire with the same terrified squeals. Instinctively, Harold covered not only Zu-Zu body with his own, but his huge right paw also shielded her from what he expected to see.  
  
Thankfully, the four gunmen who'd been posing as security guards hadn't fired into people. Their intent had been only to garner everyone's attention, which they had. The Tortoise who had been posted next to the entrance was pulling the large drapes closed, obviously to discourage sniper fire. The Gecko who had been closest to the tellers' row, had his gun out and was ordering tellers to back away from their draws. The 'Gator and the Turtle were herding the children to the opposite side of the lobby, while concerned parents did their best to hide their own anxieties and encourage their daughters to behave and stay calm and quiet.  
  
This wasn't a bank robbery; this was a siege.  
  
Harold's mind quickly assessed the situation. They were being ignored on this side of the bank, and they were very close to the break room door. The problem was, that's where Harold would hold the hostages if he was the masterminding this little event. The Gecko would likely see them as they left the break room by the back door, which was line of sight of the row.  
  
He uncovered Zu-Zu's eyes and stifled her petite feline muzzle with a gently urgency. He held a furry blonde finger to his thin black lips. He needn't have bothered; his not-quite girl friend had more sense than that.  
  
He tilted his head in the direction of the door and her eyes followed the length of his muzzle until she caught site of the door. She gave a quick nod and twisted silently out from under him the second he lifted himself up half an inch. Zu-Zu flowed like a bead liquid mercury, reminding Harold how he had once held her to him and ran his claws through her cream coloured fur.  
  
It was quite impossible, of course, but if they made it out of here alive today he was never going to let her go. Others made it work.  
  
Just as Zu-Zu made it to the door, the air above her sleek head rippled and sparkled. Harold felt his stomach drop terribly as his lungs and heart twisted about each other in his throat. Zu-Zu flinched back in that second and the rippling sparkles coalesced into the shape of... a man, for lack of a better word.  
  
It stood seven foot tall, a Reptilian Avatar from the prehistoric Feral Age, while the rifle in its claws spoke of a future Harold was not likely to live to see. Its species was unclear beneath its matte black armor, but the exposed skin was clearly an orange with brown splotches not unlike paw prints. The stubby snout and spike crested forehead of the creature met in a broad ridge that might have been a mask painted in his exotic skin tones, but clearly wasn't. Its whole back was crested with jagged plates that Harold was unwilling to believe were part of the freakish monstrosity that stood before Zu-Zu, yet they could no serve purpose as armor that military minded dog could see.  
  
"Going somewhere, Kitty?" It hissed, in a reptilian growl full of sadistic promises that set Harold's hackles aflame with fear for Zu-Zu, who froze sensibly inches away from the muzzle of the firearm the creature carried. It motioned with the gun and she scuttled back on all fours. "That's what I thought."  
  
Then it spoke again in its coarse, dry voice, its eyes locked on Harold. "You, you've got hero written all over your face. Play it cool or Kitty cashes it in." Harold concentrated on easing his hackles down and keeping his lips tight against his teeth. He raised his black palms up slightly, and that seemed to please the monster. "Right, let's keep everything nice and friendly, and professional, hmmm? I promise, if you behave, we'll be out of your fur in a few short time."  
  
The lips of the creature were very supple for a Reptile, unlike any being Harold had even seen before. Alien or Exotic, Harold had no doubt the creature went about the day in a different guise. He knew something about criminals and the so-called supervillians, after all, and anyone this ugly 24/7 tended to be either very aggressive or very tame. So, he pulled his eyes away from the creature's demonic face to its futuristic rifle. If he survived this, the rifle's construction might be the best clue to whoever was behind this.  
  
The business end of the rifle bounced to the side twice and Harold exchanged a look with Zu-Zu before they both stood slowly and allowed themselves to be herded across the bank with the other hostages. The guards seemed to smile evilly at them. With Reps, it was sometimes to easy to assign menacing undertones in their expressions, Harold realized, especially if one is unduly prejudiced. Seeing the four green skinned Repts standing there with their guns trained on unarmed women and children, did a lot to rekindle the prejudices his father had tried to instill in his children. He could almost hear the old man gloating from his grave. He allowed himself one little growl, at his father, at himself, and at the men who had betrayed the uniforms they wore.  
  
There was sobbing and shuffling as Harold and Zu-Zu joined the other bank employees against the wall, but there was a bit of relief that nobody had been asked to turn and face the wall. Most would-be bank robbers had their hostages lie down, to better control them. This suited SWAT teams just fine, as it reduced the risk of accidentally taking out a hostage, although it tended to make identification difficult.  
  
Whatever is happening, Harold thought, they want us to watch. That thought sat not at all well with the Canine. Not with the children of the bank employees standing against another wall, opposite the huge windows the expected SWAT team would likely be pointing their sniper rifles at, itching for a target.  
  
Still held upright, the Canine's right paw suddenly wrapped itself in Zu- Zu's delicate cream coloured hand.  
  
"I am Stegosaurus Rex," the huge yellow and brown monster growled, as it paced before them. "My men and I are from the Reptilian Liberation Army and we are NOT here to rob your bank, although we will gladly accept donations." The Gecko and Crocodile snickered at this joke, but the two shelled Repts seemed to glower at their partners. Dissension in the ranks, perhaps, Harold noted and filed that moment away. If this thing dragged out too long, that little tidbit might come in handy.  
  
"No," the thing calling itself Rex continued in his cruelly rasping voice, "We are hear to ask you a very important question... 'Do you love your children?'" 


	10. Stray Bullets 3

****

Stray Bullets 3

The large armoured Reptile moved with a frightening casualness. To Zhu, it reminded her of the menacing crawl of the tanks of the People's Army. She'd been a young student, protesting the evils of racial purity and cultural stagnation. The People's Government had ignored them for almost a week, but once their attention was focused, the troops and the tanks had rolled in as inevitable as a sunset.

Beneath her clothing, she could feel her fur fluffing out in fear, but she did her best to remain cool, calm, and collected. Oddly enough, she did not fear so much for herself but for Harold. Her Canine friend loved her, she knew, and he was not above throwing his life away to protect her. To save him, she had to remain centered.

She concentrated on memorizing as much detail of the Reptile that called itself Stegosaurus Rex as possible. Not for the police, of course, but for her and for her ancestors. Someone had to remember the shape of his muzzle, the golden-yellow hide with its numerous brown spots, the sand paper voice, and attitude of one very much in control of things. 

High Tech super-villains, she recalled, did not respond well to having their delusions of grandeur questioned. Considering that he had appeared out of no where, as his four false guards seized the bank, she felt unwilling to argue with him on that point. Zhu, however, knew that Harold, who been both soldier and police officer earlier in his life, was very close to the point of trying to teach Stegosaurus Rex his true place in the scheme of things. Such a clash, she realized, was inevitable, if she did not come between these two men. 

When she and Harold was backed against the wall with the tellers and their daughters at gunpoint, she kept a tight grip on Harold's muscular blonde arm. She wished he had worn a shirt today, as his short, shaved fur offered no place for her to grip. She knew from experience, he would just shrug off her nails, no matter how deeply he was raked by her. One outraged act of bravery would be all it takes to get him killed. 

Or worse. Super-villians were known to carry cruel weapons that did worse things than killing people. The incident in the mid-west where witnesses were turned into living statues of glass was the most recent horror her mind could recall. Some of the victims had changed back after several hours, describing the experience as something they'd been fully aware of. Eventually, they had all changed back... even the ones who had been chipped. Or broken. Or shattered. For those who were not restored whole, they reported being aware of what was happening to each missing piece of themselves while they were glass. The world as a whole prayed that those broken into many little pieces had not suffered as fully aware of their fate as the survivors had been. 

"Now, please," the monstrous Reptile said, "the Reptilian Liberation Army would like to apologize for this disruption in your everyday lives. I'm sure this isn't how you planned to spend your day, but it is a cruel world out there. It's my appointed task to help you understand just how cruel it is... at least for those of us who aren't as pretty or as graceful as your Furries." His voice was like a sack of stones being dragged along a cobblestone street. Still, to Zhu, it was the obviously playful undertone to its insincere apology that frightened her the most. "Now, in regards to the children..."

Rex pointed at four of the young girls, one at a time. Each girl was of a different species and each between the apparent ages of five and eight. The first one was Mary Target's eldest Nancy. The Gecko pulled the young Lamb away from her mother, its mutant eyes seemed to scare both Mary and Nancy into compliance. Its gun went from the room in general to the back of Nancy's wool covered head.

Zhu felt Harold stiffen and she flung herself into his shaved chest. She let herself shake against him and she could feel him relax just a bit. It wasn't much of an act, she was frightened for herself, for Harold, and for the children. Still, she was surprised at how comforting burying his face in his musk scented chest was. And when his arms went around her protectively, it was, for a split second, as if they were the only two people in the room; in the world, for that matter.

She wished he had kept his chest fur long and shaggy. She could let herself cry if only his fur had been longer. In fact, the fur there was shorter than hers. It was as short as Xing's, in fact, and her heart skipped a beat. Had he shaved himself this short to match Xing? It was touching, but sad, too. Her heart would always belong to Harold, but what could he do with just her heart? 

Then there was a cry of sheer agony from a Canine of as mixed a breed as any Zhu had ever seen. She was a temp for the Student Loan Department and Zhu did not know her name. She did vividly recall a couple of the more gossipy types chiding the woman behind her back for bringing her daughter in, as if a temp had no such rights. Zhu had been very annoyed at them for such small mindedness, but she had kept her thoughts private. 

In retrospect, the old-biddies had been right, the temp's daughter should have stayed home, but not for the reasons they had voiced. The motley Canine howled with terror and misery as one of the shelled gunman pulled her black and white girl away from her. Again, the gun went right to the daughter's head as he dragged her into the middle of the Lobby.

Zhu nearly fell over as Harold jerked forward, but she's been waiting for that. Braced against the flooras she was, Harold was unable to do anything but glare at the terrorists.

Rex noticed the motion and swung his eyes towards them. His gun remained pointing in the general direction of the others. "Don't worry, Dog. I won't harm the children. This is just a thought experiment made real." The eyes were bright and playful for such a cold blooded creature, Zhu thought. His gun indicated the bank employees and the three customers that had just happened to be there. "We won't hurt them... oh no, but they might. With their hate and prejudice... and their pretty little minds... their petty little minds." 

He walked over to the wailing Canine mother, who seemed caught between the impulse to run away and beg for her child's life. "United Species Bank... doesn't live up to its name, does it? Do you know why you there was a temp. position here for you? Do you?"

"Leave her alone, you freak!" Harold growled, sending a spike of fear into Zhu's heart.

Rex spun around to face Harold, his plated crest nearly knocking the poor female to the floor. "No, she should know this." He did step back and made a casual show of displaying his large weapon to his captives, as if to remind them all who was in charge. The room went quiet, even the sobbing was instantly subdued. "There were three qualified USB employees who wanted this job. It's not a very prestigious job, of course, but it pays better than a simple teller post. And they had a nice bit of seniority going for them. But, they were Reptiles. Dirty, stinking Repts and we can't have the rich Furries sending their children to them for free money, oh no. Bad enough the poor Furries have to deal with them, eh? So, this branch... alone in all the USB branches in the state is made up of Temps.

"Funny how the green Temps never last very long." Rex laughed at his own joke without humor. "I can see you're a mixed breed, lady. You know what it's like then to have people turn their muzzles up at you... just for having the wrong colored fur or a tail that's too long... or too short. You like being called a Mutt? You like hearing people discussing Purity in stage whispers?" The female shook her head, no. "Well, that's what it's like when you're a Reptile, only times as bad. Separate bathrooms for health reasons. Landlords turning off the heat in the cold winter night leaving whole families in torpor until someone finds them or until they are evicted or wake up in some sweat shop chained to a table. Locked out of sports... clubs... most of us can't even fit comfortably behind the wheel of an automobile."

The last two girls were taken. Zhu did not know the girls' names but since they were a Porcine and a Fox kit, she guessed they belonged to Naomi Wilder and Giles Toddson. The Crocodile hesitated before putting the gun to the kit's head, his attention caught by a little Avian girl standing between Zhu and a Feline by the name Kelly, who was standing bravely in front of her two daughters. The Croc slapped his tail on the ground and pointed with his vicious looking snout at the poor little thing. "What about her?" Zhu didn't recall any Birds working for the branch; maybe this wasn't an employee's daughter, but a friend of one. Did that make it better or worse, Zhu wondered. 

Rex spared a quick glance and shook his head no. "Adopted by that lovely Lioness she's standing next to, if I recall correctly. I think her 'mommy' already knows the lesson we're going to teach, don't you, Jane?"

Zhu watched as the Feline Teller swept the young Avian behind her other two offspring, as if she had momentarily forgotten that the Bird was her responsibility, too. Her eyes narrowed threateningly. "My husband's an Avian."

"He's a Feathered Brother, then. Well, when you get home today, you can tell him we did this for him, too. And for her."

The Crocodile stood with the others in the middle of the lobby. The sacks of money collected earlier had been piled up nearby. They each held a nasty gun to each girl's head. They were not above twisting a few limbs to make them stand as still and as silently as possible. 

"Now, what happens to your daughters is up to you. You're the only ones that can hurt them. You're the only ones that can help them. You're the only ones that can help make the world a better place for them." As the hulking monster spoke, the gunmen put a small broach on their frightened charges. Small explosives, Zhu thought, but before she could look up at Harold, the gunmen put matching broaches on their stolen uniforms.

Zhu met Harold's eyes and she could see he was confused as she was by this. Then, suddenly, the broaches spark and filled the lobby with a blinding light that lasted several seconds. "You said you loved your Children, you Furry tools." Rex screamed during the extended flash. "Do you really? Do you still love them?"

Then the light vanished and the eight people in the lobby stood, frozen for a moment but changed in a tremendously fundamental way. That's when one of the tellers screamed.

Where there had been Repts in brown shirts with guns, there now stood four Mammals with guns; a Ram, a Fox, a Canine, and a large Hog, the leanest male Porcine that Zhu had ever seen. They each wore the brown security shirts from before and each held a gun on a child standing next to them. 

Only now, each child was a small Reptile.

to be continued...


End file.
